by ACF Bookens
“25th and California, you said?”
“I think so, why? Is that important?”
“Maybe.” My mind was racing, but I needed proof. “Did Nancy say if Juan filed for any permits or anything?”
“She didn’t say, but I got the impression it wasn’t that far along, that he was still trying to buy the buildings and stuff.”
I nodded, even as I felt frustration in my chest. No paperwork. That would have been a big clue. “Shoot.”
“What?”
“Oh sorry, did I say that out loud? Sorry, Coach. Thanks for telling me.”
“No problem. I figured you’d like to know, seeing as how you were looking into things.” He gave me a smile. “Plus, I thought it would give me a chance to apologize.”
I dragged my attention away from my theories and focused on Coach. “Apologize? Apologize for what?”
“Well, for flirting with you all that time. I really liked you, but I didn’t know you were married until that day your husband showed up. I would never have— “
“Oh goodness, don’t worry about that. You actually helped me, gave me some hope that maybe the problem in my marriage wasn’t all me.”
“How could it be any part you, Harvey? You are amazing. If Nancy hadn’t come along— “
“But she did, and I think that’s amazing. You two seemed very happy.”
He flushed again. “We are. She’s great.”
“And she’s got a great guy. I’m really happy for you.” I meant it. It’s hard to be bitter about love when you see it bringing so much happiness. At least, I was choosing not to be bitter.
I gave his bicep a squeeze and immediately thought it nice, but not as nice as Delaney’s, and smiled. “I actually have a date tonight myself.”
“Wow, you move fast.” A look of horror passed over his face. “I mean, I don’t— I’m sorry. What a stupid thing to say.”
“No, I know it seems fast if you aren’t living it, but this is just a date. For fun. Nothing more.” Not yet at least.
“Well, I’m happy for you, too, Harvey.” He gave me a quick hug. “Gotta go. I’m supposed to lead a training ride up the Marin Headlands. Catch you later?”
“Yep. You may even see me tomorrow. I’m planning to come take a jog in the park, thought I’d stop by and say hi.”
“Perfect. I’ll introduce you to Nancy.”
I gave him a wave and resumed my walk to the bookstore. But now I wasn’t thinking about whether a used or a new bookstore was best. I was thinking about a murder suspect.
* * *
I tried to make myself browse a bit in Green Apple, and I did buy a used A. S. Byatt novel that I didn’t own. But mostly, I just really wanted to get back home and ask a few questions. I took a light jog up 6th and then over on California, enjoying the slight breeze coming off the Golden Gate.
After a quick shower at home, I put the plan I’d formed on the way home in motion and headed down to Mrs. Wang’s store. As usual, she was there, ordering the green onions into a perfect battalion of green stalks. Nothing stayed out of place long in Ms. Wang’s shop.
“Hi, Ms. Wang. Thought I’d use my afternoon off to bake some rugelach, so I need some really good peaches. Have any?”
My usually-chipper friend was pretty dour today, but she gave me a small smile and pointed to the bin of peaches near the back. “Your friend stopped by?”
“Oh yes, he found me. Thanks for pointing him in the right direction.” It was only now that I felt a little odd about Ms. Wang knowing that much about my activities. “He wanted to tell me that Juan Montague, you know, the man who was murdered, was doing a little real estate hunting around here? Actually, not even around here, right here. Had he talked to you?”
She moved over to arrange the fresh ginger. “I don’t think so, at least I don’t remember that he did. Surely, I would have remembered if someone wanted to buy my building and tear it down.”
I took a long deep breath. “Ah, maybe it was one of the other corners then. I’ll just pay for these peaches and head on back. Have to get ready for my date.” I gave her my biggest smile.
She met my eyes then and smiled back. “Actually, come on. I have something even better for rugelach in the cooler – fresh apricots.”
The more I talked about this fake baking endeavor, the more I thought I might try it. And apricots did sound perfect. I walked along behind her and could see we were heading to the cooler. They’ll be really fresh, I thought.
She went into the walk-in refrigerator, and I waited outside. “Come pick the ones you want,” she said casually.
“Oh, okay.” I strolled in and turned to my right, where I’d seen her step in. I only caught a glimpse of the metal shelf before it knocked me out.
* * *
I woke up some time later, my teeth chattering and fingers numb. I was now back in the corner of the cooler behind what looked like bins of ice cream. I did a quick scan and realized my own stupidity. This was a freezer. No one keeps fresh fruit in a freezer. I was so stupid.
I blew onto my hands and then reached into my waist band, where I’d tucked my phone on my walk. Nothing. It must have fallen out . . . or she had taken it. I should have been more careful. I knew she’d killed Montague the minute she’d said that thing about tearing the building down. I hadn’t mentioned anything like that. I knew better.
I had been trying to act normal to keep her clueless, but Ms. Wang was sharp. She’d gotten my game. Now, I was going to freeze to death by tubs of Halo Top ice cream. If I was going to go, at least I wanted to die beside some full-fat Breyer’s Mint Chocolate Chip.
Just then the cooler opened, and Ms. Wang stepped in. “You’re awake. That’s too bad. I already hate to do this, and it’ll be even harder with you watching.”
She drew a long knife out from behind her back, and I scrambled as far away as I could, slamming into the back wall of the cooler after a few inches. “You don’t have to do this, Ms. Wang. I don’t even really know anything.”
“You know enough. You know I killed him.”
“Well, no, not really. I mean I thought maybe, but I don’t have any proof.”
“Let’s keep it that way, shall we?” She took a step toward me, and I stood up, prepared to kick or scream or do whatever I had to keep that knife as far away from my body as possible.
A knock on the door was followed by a woman’s voice. “Ms. Wang, I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have that special mustard you always keep for me?”
“Don’t move,” she whispered as she slid out the door, opening it just wide enough to move through but not wide enough for me to be able to signal to whoever was out there.
I had to act fast. I grabbed the big boxes of ice cream and began sliding them one by one against the door. Then, I piled up all the cases of Hot Pockets and Marie Callender’s Chicken Pot Pies. Who knew boxes of frozen hot dogs could be so heavy? Finally, I grabbed all the bags of ice and wedged them around everything, hoping it would keep the five-foot-nothing Ms. Wang out until someone came looking for me.
But then, that was the catch. Delaney was expecting to pick me up at six – I had no idea what time it was now – but if I didn’t show, he’d probably just think I ghosted him, that I got nervous and decided to bail. He didn’t know me well enough to know I’d never do that, even if I was scared. He’d probably just write it off as rude and go on his merry way.
I’d probably freeze to death before someone found me. In movies, these freezers were always low on air, but that didn’t look likely here, given the vents I could see along the top of the walls. But I was already starting to shiver, so death from hypothermia was definitely a possibility.
I needed to see if I could find anything to help conserve my body heat, but sadly, there were no blankets in the freezer. I settled for some small pieces of plastic that were on the floor and wrapped them around my legs. Then, I tucked my hands into the band of my pants and got into a small ball and waited.
Soon, Ms.
Wang was back, and when she couldn’t get the door open, she was mad. Furious. The store must have been empty because I could hear her flinging herself against the door of the cooler, trying to force it open. But my barricade worked.
“It’s a slower way to die, you know,” she said between barrages. “Freezing to death is a pretty miserable process, I imagine.”
Another slam against the door.
“Why did you do it? I mean, why not just refuse to sell?”
There was a pause, and then her assaults on the door got more intense. “You think I didn’t try that? You think I didn’t try to convince the other businesses on this street to hold out? But when even Cleon decided to take Montague’s offer, what choice did I have? This business is all I’ve got.”
As I shivered against the cold, metal walls, I tried to be sympathetic. Mrs. Wang practically lived at the store. I had never been in when she wasn’t working. To give up her shop would be a huge change.
Still, to kill someone. That was pretty desperate.
“Surely, you had another option. Take the money and buy another store. Maybe go live with your kids?”
“What option? I’m 72 years old. I can’t start over again. This store is all I have.”
Then, she slammed her body against the door again. I kept trying to talk to her, to convince her to let me out, to turn herself in. But she stopped talking then. Finally, even the attempts to open the door ended, and everything got very quiet.
* * *
I sat there in the dark for a long time. I was sure Delaney had been to pick me up and left. And without Trevor to potentially notice that I never came home, I was pretty certain that I’d die in here and that no one would even know. She’d get rid of my body somehow, and that would be it. I’d just disappear.
I started imagining my funeral. Mart, Stephen, and Walter on the front row crying. My parents next to them, having flown in from Maryland for the service. They’d all be devastated. They’d feel guilty for not having protected me. Mom would say something about how she’d been trying to get me home for years, that things like this didn’t happen on the Eastern Shore.
I let my mind run there for a bit, and then I remembered the bookstore, all my notes to open one, and the loss of that possibility finally broke me. I sat in that corner and cried until I fell asleep.
7
I woke up to a man’s voice calling my name. “Harvey! Harvey?! You here?”
I was so cold and so sleepy I could barely lift my head, but I knew this was my chance. So, I took a deep breath into my aching lungs and shouted with all my might, “Yes, I’m here. In—“I started to cough, hacking jolts that racked my lungs.
“She’s in the cooler,” the voice said. “Hurry.”
Only then did I realize that my efforts to keep Ms. Wang out also meant I’d done the same with my rescuers. I tried to stand and go over to move the things away from the door, but I couldn’t get my legs to hold me.
I heard someone try the door and find it blocked. I put my hands on the cold, wooden floor and started to crawl, but I’d only gotten a few feet when the blockade of frozen food shifted, and a brown hand reached in to feel what was around the door.
“It’s blocked with boxes. Help me push,” the voice said.
Seconds later, Delaney Fishman and David Sheridan were standing in the cooler with me. Delaney scooped me up and carried me out to the sidewalk, where blessedly the sun had broken through the fog. Coach followed close behind, and as Delaney set me down on the curb, Mart rushed over with the hot pink cardigan she always kept in her car for the unexpected cool spots that were so common in San Francisco.
I couldn’t stop shivering, so Mart sat down on one side of me and pulled me close. Delaney crowded up against me on the other, and I closed my eyes to savor their body heat.
It took a few minutes, but I eventually started to feel better – a cup of Cleon’s delightful coffee had helped – and I needed to understand what happened. “How did you find me?” I asked Mart.
“Well, luck. Good fortune. Whatever you want to call it. I had tried to text you last night to find out how your date with Mr. Handsome here had gone.” She winked at Delaney. “When you didn’t respond, I thought it might have gone really well, if you know what I mean, so I didn’t worry. But when I still hadn’t heard from you this morning, I got super concerned and came over to check on you. When I got here, Delaney was here.”
He put his arm around my shoulder. “At first, I thought you’d just blown me off. But that didn’t feel like you. I tried texting and calling, and when I couldn’t get you, I decided to come over. Something told me that you might have gotten into trouble.”
“Something was right, I guess.”
“I just kept thinking about my mom’s books and how the sleuth always got into trouble, and I couldn’t get the idea that you were in danger out of my mind.”
Mart took my hand, “Then, when Coach here showed up, too, we knew something was wrong.”
David had been sitting beside Mart on the curb, Nancy at his side. “You had said you were going to come for a jog and meet Nancy. When you didn’t show, I thought maybe you’d just decided to sleep in, so we came over to check on you, too. All of us being here and not having heard from you made us terrified. So we started searching.”
“Cleon told us that you’d gone into Ms. Wang’s shop yesterday afternoon,” Mart said. “But when we asked her about your visit, she said she hadn’t seen you since Thursday. I knew she was lying because you had told me you were going to show her your date outfit before Delaney came. You had been so excited about her suggestions.”
“Plus, she was acting all sorts of weird, trying to keep me from going to the back of the store. She actually tried to convince me that there were rats back there so I wouldn’t look.” Delaney shook his head.
I looked around the street but didn’t see Ms. Wang anywhere. “Where is she then? Did she get away?”
“Oh, no, girl.” Mart snapped. “She’s in that police car down the block with Officer Jensen.”
“I called her as soon as Mart accused Ms. Wang of lying and saw the old lady reach under the counter. I didn’t know if she had a gun under there, but I wasn’t taking any chances.” Coach looked kind of proud of himself.
“Turns out that the police have thought it might be her all along. They found some recordings that Montague had made of her threatening him if he kept up his plan to buy the block. They just needed a bit more time to pull the rest of the evidence together.”
I laughed nervously, and Mart hugged me. “A bit more time was about the end of me, huh?”
An ambulance pulled up to the corner then, and two paramedics climbed out and came toward me.
“Guys, come on. I’m fine. This isn’t necessary.”
“Oh yes, yes, it is,” Mart said.
* * *
I spent that day and night at the USCF Hospital under observation. I had a little frost bite on my fingers, and I was dehydrated. Mostly, though, I was just cold, so I reveled in the heated blankets and the endless television.
Mart and Delaney stayed with me all day, and Coach and Nancy came by that afternoon to bring me a slice of my favorite – peanut butter pie. It was kind of fun, being doted on that way.
The next morning, Delaney and his driver picked me up and took me home. When I got there, the apartment was full of wildflowers, and a perfect, country breakfast of bacon, biscuits, grits, scrambled eggs with sharp cheddar, and orange juice was on my dining room table. “Mart told you?”
“Who else?” Delaney said as he slipped a blanket around my shoulders and steered me toward the couch. He brought me a huge plate of breakfast food and then sat beside me with his own meal.
“Did you make this?”
He guffawed. “Uh, no. I had some help from Cleon and the folks at Mel’s.”
I smiled. “Not a cook?”
“I don’t own a pot.” He took a swallow of his mimosa. “But of course, this means that I know all
the best restaurants in the Bay Area.”
“Good to know. Good to know.”
He tried to swipe a piece of bacon off my plate and got the tines of my fork against his hand instead.
“Get your own, Mr. Fishman,” I said with a laugh.
* * *
On Monday morning, I headed into work and stopped by Stephen’s desk. He and I had texted all weekend, and I wanted to thank him for the flowers he and Walter had sent over. Plus, I had some other news.
“You look good. Do you feel good?” he said.
“I’m tired, but yeah, I’m good.”
“And how was the date?” He was giving me a sly grin.
“It was good. Fun. Relaxing. I liked it.”
He furrowed his brow. “You liked it. Or you liked him? Those are two very different things.”
“Good point. I like him, but I’ve realized something. I need some time, some space to do life like I want to do it. And Delaney is great, but his life comes with a lot of stuff.”
“Not ready to be a football wife yet?”
“Hardly. Not even ready to be a football girlfriend.”
“Got it. Is he disappointed?”
“Maybe a little. But I told him we could still hang out while I’m around.”
“Well, that’s good . . . wait, what? While you’re around? What does that mean?”
I’d been thinking about it all weekend, about the way I’d felt when it seemed I might not get that bookstore I’d been dreaming of quietly for so many years. Now was the time, I knew that. Nothing like a brush with death to help you get your affairs in order.
“I’m moving back to Maryland to open a bookstore.”
“You’re what?!”
“I’ve always dreamed of having my own bookstore. So, I’m going to do it. I already have the town picked out and everything.”
Stephen teared up and took my hand.
